Always Remember
by CorruptedWhispers
Summary: There was a reason why Kiku never got mad very often; he became a monster when he did. And that only reminded him of the times he wanted to forget. Mild Giripan.


The grass swayed and danced with the whistling wind; it tickled the soft skin of them both. The cute mews of the kittens that played made them smile. They were stationed underneath a shady tree; the sky was brilliant, the clouds were majestic, and the sun was Superior. The rays warmed their cheeks, leaving them blushed from the kiss of the sun. To be simply put, the day was gorgeous and perfect.

Kiku held his knees close to him, smiling lazily as he watched the kittens play. Next to him was Heracles, who was letting the warmth message him. He began to drift into a haze, remembering memories of various periods in time. The times with his Mother, the time he made the alliance with Kiku, the unspeakable nights they had together, the times when he was cooped up in the Ottoman House, and the times with…_him_…Sadiq.

Heracles began to fume at the horrible memories with the Turkish man; the man was an absolute demon! He treated him terribly, almost like a slave; he made fun of him, picked on him, and most of all, caused his Mother's death. He scrunched his eyes up in fury and let out a fiery snarl. Kiku looked over to Heracles with a worried look and scooted closer.

"What's wrong?" He asked with sincerity. Heracles opened his eyes and caught the sight of the one he loved. His temper cooled and the corners of his mouth began to travel north; the sight of Kiku would always soothed him.

"Nothing, really; just mad." Heracles replied easily. Kiku raised an eyebrow and scooted closer, seating himself right next to Heracles.

"Why; did I do something wrong?" Kiku asked with shadowed fear; there were many things that made Kiku upset; and that was if Heracles was anything but content. Heracles' eyes shot open and he felt an arrow of guilt shoot through him.

"No, it's not you," Heracles said, placing an arm around Kiku to help him believe it.

"It was that Turk bastard, that's all." Heracles said with a sneer, glaring off in the opposite direction of his love.

"But Sadiq-San isn't here." Kiku said in a confused voice.

"I know, just thinking and he came into my thoughts." Heracles grunted. Kiku nodded and turned his attention back to the playful kittens. Heracles watched as Kiku smiled and laughed softly at his furry friends. He began to wonder if Kiku ever became angered. Since the day they made their alliance, he's only seen him mildly irritated; nothing passed that. He was imagining what he would look like when mad; the results were unbelievably cute and definite Kodak moments.

"Hey, Kiku?"

"Yes, Heracles-San, what is it?" Kiku hummed in response.

"Do you ever get mad?"

"Uhh…I suppose."

"Then how come I've never seen you mad before?"

"I guess there's nothing to be mad at when I'm around you."

"Hmm. Can you get mad now?" Kiku's eyes shot open wide and he looked over at Heracles with a bewildered look.

"Why do you want to see me angry?" Kiku asked; the Greek could be so weird sometimes.

"It's just a side of you I've never seen; I'm curious, is all."

"Well…alright. How do I…get mad?" Kiku asked; there wasn't anything that was making him mad right now. The sun was a little irritable, but nothing to make a deal over.

"Just think; what makes you mad?"

"I…I'm not sure." Kiku said, defeated. The Grecian smiled at the Japanese; he was too cute sometimes.

"What were you thinking about that made you so mad?"

"I was thinking about the past, when Sadiq had control of me." Heracles said glumly, his smile fading at the thought of the Turk. Kiku nodded and began to travel through his mind; what had happened to him that made him mad?

He began to wander; there was the time when he was secluded, isolated from the rest of the world. But that was a peaceful era, nothing that could ever make him mad. There were the times when food became scarce and shot up in prices; but that was such a small tick; nothing to fuss about.

Kiku walked through his head, opening doors that held history of his nation. Behind one door was the sun rising, such a beautiful site; that was the very day he opened his eyes to the new world. Behind another were the sakura trees in full bloom; spring was delicious in his land. As Kiku traveled further and further, the light within his mind began to dim. The walls were splattered with random splotches of red, and the faint sound of gun shots could be heard. Kiku could feel a sickening feeling in his stomach as he kept pace; it began to get hot and the gun shots were becoming louder. As he continued, the doors to his sides were boarded up and nailed shut, never to be opened again.

At last, the dark and dingy pathway led to one final door. It was speckled red, like the walls, and looked faded and dull. The gunshots were more frequent and ear bleeding loud. The heat was unbearable and Kiku's emotions were mixed. What was happening to him; what did he feel? He felt confused, yet flustered and power hungry.

Was this anger; it felt so dark and hot then what he remembered it to be? Sure, he remembered what it was like to get angry. It happened naturally, just never around Heracles. Forcing on anger felt sickening to him; it made him feel ill and guilty. What exactly was behind this door? He just couldn't remember. From the sounds of guns, he would suspect war. But he had seen war too many times, which one was it? Kiku's hand reached for the handle and opened it. A flash of light engulfed the dark room and left Kiku in a daze.

_"We shall follow this route here, riding the current toward there, the heart of the American Navy," A man said in a stern voice. He placed his game like piece onto the heart and pushed aside the crude, toy boats that originally sat there._

"_Pearl Harbor; it shall sink to the bottom of the ocean once were through with it." The man said darkly. The people that surrounded grinned such disgusting smiles; almost of a sneaky fox. The room was dark; the only light in the room was shining onto the map that carried out their dastardly plan. The people that surrounded were nothing more than silhouettes. _

"_We shall arrive on the morning of December the seventh, if all prevails. I expect success; do not fail me." The man barked. He walked gracefully into the light, revealing an all too familiar face. _

_It was his own._

_Another flash followed and the plan that was discussed became a reality._

_There in the clouds of debris did he see another familiar face; it was angry, yet tears made tracks upon his cheeks. His glasses reflected the monstrous black clouds; the black clouds of a successful surprise attack. He stood there, clutching his chest, his teeth gnashing against each other in order to hold restraint. He could see his chest heave painful gasps and the glistening drops fall drip off his chin._

"_If you want to play dirty, then we'll play just as filthy." He heard America growl._

_Another flash appeared and introduced a memory that was never supposed to be thought of again._

_The loud blast from the first and the thunderous boom from the second following made his heart ring hollow. He heard the screams of his beloved people and watched as the mushroom cloud bloomed into the once brilliant sky. The planes that produced such atrocity flew away, showing glimpses of the people within, with faces of terror. That was not the look upon his face when he had destroyed their people; he felt proud and powerful. Yet they looked guilty and resentful. He felt his teeth mash together, he felt the emptiness within him harden, and he felt his eyes squeeze shut. _

"Damn the Gods." Heracles cursed. He violently grabbed the Japanese man into his arms and held him to the crook of his neck. He buried his face into his ebony hair and tightened his embrace. The man within his arms wailed out, almost as if in pain. His face scrunched up and tears pouring out rapidly from his squinted eyes. His breath hitched and his chest heaved painfully. His heart ached and felt like it was carved hallow He gripped Heracles' deathly tight, afraid that if he let go, he would fall back into the painful memory.

"N-n-no, n-never again, n-n-no." Kiku kept repeating in his pitchy voice.

"I asked you to get mad, not cry." Heracles whispered gently, not to make his lover any worse.

"I n-n-never want t-to go back." Kiku cried. Heracles didn't know what he was talking about, but he whispered to his love that he would never let him go back.

Kiku sobbed into the Greek's shoulder, wishing he had never witnessed something so horrible a second time. He felt like he had aged a million years; he felt like a monster. War had changed him; he was eager for blood and hungry for success. He though he had succeeded when America's Heart of the Navy was destroyed; but the feeling was short lived. It backfired on him and caused the lives of his people.

Back then, he was angry; angry at himself for not taking America seriously.

But as the war ended, as he flew over the radiated wasteland, his heart changed.

He had begun to cry; he was a fool. He had killed his own people in the selfish rise to power.

There was a reason why that door was in the back of his head; and there was a reason why it was the only door back there that wasn't barricaded off.

It was there to never let him forget the tears of Alfred and his people; the tears of Kiku, and his own people.


End file.
